Unexpected
by AvengersIsLife
Summary: Clint leaves for a seemingly easy mission. Natasha isn't worried; why should she be? Everyone lives in Avengers Tower.
1. Chapter 1

Natasha wasn't worried. Far from it. Clint was just going on a small mission; to bring in the leader of a hospital that was purposely killing people for the use of their organs in drug smuggling. The night before, Natasha retired to her room late, having been up watching Skyfall with Coulson and the rest of the Avengers. They all enjoyed James Bond movies, probably more than they should have. Always after watching one of Ian Fleming's' movies, Tony would pretend he was James Bond for the next few hours. He would get Clint to allow him in the air vents, 'confiscate' one of Natasha's and Clint's many nerf guns, and act as though no one could see him, and that everyone was his target. They all tolerated this, for reasons unknown.

On this certain night, Clint had received a text in the middle of the movie, requesting him to leave at the break of dawn and bring in this leader to the S.H.I.E.L.D. base in Boston. It was a simple solo mission, so she wasn't worried; Clint had handled worse on his own. He told Coulson, who supervised movie night due to the fact that sometimes things got a little out of hand, and Coulson agreed to get up tomorrow to see him off.

Clint had left for his room shortly after the text, and no one questioned it; it was almost one in the morning, and the sun rose at five; he needed to rest. Coulson followed suit, retreating to the guest room specially reserved for him. Natasha was left sitting alone on the couch, (Steve was in the chair opposite, Tony and Pepper were on the love seat, and Bruce and Thor claimed the floor) staring blankly at the screen.

When the credits rolled, Natasha stood up and stretched, shut off the T.V., then crept silently to the stairs. Everyone else was either sleeping, or close to it. Even Pepper was snuggled up against Tony, her eyes shut. When Natasha reached her dark room, the first thing she saw was the clock on her desk, reading two thirty. She rubbed her eyes, relishing the fact that she could sleep in tomorrow, unlike Clint. She flicked on the overhead light and laughed. Clint was in deep sleep, stretched out upon her bed.

Clint's room, which was the top most room in Avengers Tower, due to the roof access, was too far away for his weary body to stand sometimes, so he would crash in the room right below his room; Natasha's room. She didn't understand this; he was already so close to his room. Why stop there? When she questioned him on this subject, he would smile, then say "I do it to annoy you." She believed this.

Natasha couldn't keep the smile off her face now, because Clint looked so peaceful. He was stretched so comfortably on top of the blankets, too tired to have even untied his boots or remove his jacket. Today had been a difficult day, for all of the Avengers. There had been two bank robberies, and a prison break. They had been called in to handle all of them, thinking they were just simple crimes the police didn't want to deal with. Instead, when they arrived at both bank robberies, they found a highly organized group of people who could handle weapons with ease. They detained both groups, and brought them into S.H.I.E.L.D. for interrogation. The prison break was led by an old friend of Natasha's and Clint's. He was a weapons dealer who enjoyed using children as human shields. He was staying in the prison while his trial was conducted, but when his lawyer said there wasn't a way to get off of the charges, he decided to get off his own way. He put a valiant fight, but he just couldn't handle Thor's hammer, which knocked him unconscious when he wasn't looking.

Needless to say, everyone was exhausted. When the Avengers returned to the tower, they hardly spoke a word to each other. When they got back, Pepper tended to everyone's injuries, except Clint and Natasha; though they knew Pepper well, they still wouldn't let her fix them up. They entrusted that job only to one another. Tony had suggested a movie night, which led to a 'discussion' over what they would watch. World War III was about to break out when Coulson arrived. Everyone was a little freaked out; he hand a knack of turning up completely unexpected, especially when he was needed.

Finally shifting away from the sleeping archer, Natasha shimmied off her own jacket, and slipped off her boots. She cut off the overhead light, and replaced it with the desk light, which was dimmer, and less likely to wake the archer up. With a backwards glance at Clint, she left the room and walked across the hall to the bathroom, her pajamas in her hand.

Natasha shut the bathroom door and changed into her tang top and shorts, then brushed her hair, watching her pale reflection in the mirror. It wasn't an actual mirror, but a computer. It showed your reflection, but around the edges of the screen were emblems of Google Chrome, Word Documents, Skype, ext. Tony even had these contraptions in the showers, making it easy for him to brainstorm brilliant ideas while washing his enormous head and ego.

Natasha pulled up the Skype app, finding Coulson online. She tapped the call button. After it rang twice, Coulson's face replaced her reflection, looking tired and annoyed. Once he realized who it was, his face softened. "What are you still doing up?" Natasha asked him, smirking as she prepared to brush her teeth. "Too much coffee," he said, putting a few items into a carrying bag. "Going somewhere?" He glanced up. "Clint should be back tomorrow afternoon, but I won't return until the day after. Fury's got me running the interrogation." Natasha nodded, spitting the toothpaste into the sink. "Where is Barton, do you know?" Coulson asked, his eyes not focusing on Natasha anymore, but on something else he had pulled up on his screen. Natasha assumed it was the surveillance feed. "Hawk's in my room, again," she grinned, laughing as Coulson shook his head. "He gets lazier every day," he said with a sigh. Natasha agreed.

"Alright Natasha. I'm turning in. Have fun sleeping with Barton tonight." Natasha made a face at him, knowing full and well he was being sarcastic. She clicked off, then crept back to her room. Clint was still in his original position, sleeping quietly. She carefully removed his boots, then turned him on his stomach and slipped off his jacket. She pushed him to the far side of the bed, next to the wall, and yanked the blankets out from underneath him. He still didn't wake up.

After she clicked off her desk light, she climbed up beside him, laying as far away from him as she could so that they weren't touching. She breathed deeply, willing her muscles to relax. Slowly she closed her eyes, leaving her ears sharp, ready to detect any sound of intrusion. Her ears tuned into Clint's deep breathing, and without warning, she fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Sunlight shone through the closed blind, desperately trying to illuminate the room. Though Natasha was awakening, she stayed where she was, enjoying the silence and peacefulness of sleep still clinging to her. Eventually she let her eyes flutter open, immediately focusing on the nearest object to her, which was the wall.

She blinked, trying to erase the sluggish feeling in her mind, forcing herself to awaken completely. She rolled over, scanning the room as she did so. The light that reached inside the room left patterns on the carpet, and she was momentarily blinded by it's brightness. Clint, his jacket, and boots were gone, but other than that, everything was as she left it, and she reached out to grab her phone on her bedside table. She froze.

Laying on the portion of the table devoid of water bottles, pens, knifes, guns, or ammunition, was a tiny silver arrow, attached to a long silver chain. Natasha's breath caught in her throat. She reached out carefully for it, as though afraid it would fade away. She gently picked it up, letting the chain run fluidly through her fingers. Her eyes examined the necklace hungrily, knowing full and well who left this there for her.

She clipped on the necklace, adjusting the arrow so that it hung in the center of her chest. Grinning, she checked her phone. Her eyes grew huge as she read the time. Nine thirty. She cursed, threw back the blankets, grabbed her jacket, and made her way down to the kitchen/dining room.

Though Natasha had woken up far later than she usually did, it seemed that everyone else had slept in as well; Thor and Steve were waiting for the coffee at the counter, Bruce was unrolling the newspaper, and Tony wasn't even up yet. The only one who seemed to have woken up on time was Pepper; she was fully dressed, drinking her protein shake as she organized her schedule for the day.

Natasha mumbled a hello, which got little response, then moved over to the refrigerator, searching for something to eat. She settled with a plain bagel and apple juice, seeing as how the coffee wasn't ready yet. She sat two seats down from Pepper, directly in front of the window, her usual seat. Natasha didn't say anything, but she felt Pepper's eyes on her.

If Pepper noticed something, she didn't mention it. Pepper finished her shake, scribbled a few things in her planner, then stood up, leaving them all staring after her, wondering how she kept putting one foot in front of the other when she had stayed up as late as they did, and had one of the most boring and stressful jobs out of all of them.

Thor was getting irritated with the coffee maker. "GIVE ME THAT DELICIOUS DRINK ALREADY, YOU FOUL MORTAL CREATURE!" he yelled, making everyone wince. "Thor, it'll be done in a minute. I think. I don't know, Bruce? Am I right? Will it be done soon?" Steve asked, turning to the bemused scientist. "Yeah, it's almost done. It'll beep when it's finished." Natasha watched as Thor stared grumpily at the machine, smiling inwardly.

The coffee maker beeped just as Tony slouched into the room looking irritated, his hair stuck up and messy. Pepper followed behind him, walking straight to the coffee maker, pouring out a glass, and shoving it in Tony's hands. "I'm leaving," she announced. "Try your best not to destroy anything while I'm gone." Tony scoffed, making a face at Pepper behind her back. She caught it, and she glared at him. With a swish of her strawberry blonde hair, she left.

Thor, Steve, Tony and Natasha evaporated the coffee supply over the next thirty seconds, forcing Bruce to brew some more. The job of making coffee fell onto whoever woke up first that day, but Clint had 'forgotten' to do so when he woke up so early, leaving Bruce with the annoying chore. When there was a sufficient supply, they all settled back down at the table, reading the paper, scanning their phones, or staring out the window.

Tony, as usual, was the first to break the peaceful silence. "So Spider, have you heard from the Hawk?" Natasha glared up at him. He wasn't very smart about holding his tongue in the morning, and any other normal person would have quaked under her gaze. "Leave her alone Stark," sighed Steve from behind the paper. Tony made a face at him, even though Steve couldn't see him. "I 'm sorry, Natasha, but do you mind me asking about Barton?" came Bruce's voice. Natasha switched her eyes to him, softening her gaze. "No, I haven't heard anything. And you don't have to apologize; Barton's business isn't my own; it's everyone's on this team," she replied. Tony groaned. "So you're only mean to me?" Natasha refixed her glare upon him. "You're the only one who annoys me."

After breakfast, Steve and Natasha made their way down to the training room. Thor joined them a short time later, after he polished off another box of pop tarts. They spent the morning attacking punching bags, sparring, and running laps around the room. They tried to get Tony and Bruce to come down from the lab, but they said something about plasma volcanoes, so they left them alone.

When the group finally dispersed back to their own rooms to get cleaned up for lunch around one thirty, Natasha felt weird. She hadn't gotten a text from Clint or Coulson telling her everything was okay. She eased her thoughts by thinking that maybe Clint hadn't invaded the hospital yet.

When Natasha got back to her room, she checked her phone, pulling off the towel around her neck, revealing the silver arrow. Steve and Thor hadn't noticed it; if they did, they didn't say anything. She wiped the remaining sweat from her forehead, then looked at her phone. For the second time that day, she stopped breathing. There was a text from Coulson, and all it said was _'Call when you can.' _

Natasha rushed to the bathroom, jabbing the Skype button and calling Coulson. Her thoughts raced; was Clint okay? Did something go wrong? Coulson answered almost immediately. His face was grave, his brow furrowed. Natasha held her breath. He read her facial expressions, something only he and Clint could ever do when she tried to hide her feelings. He realized at once she wasn't in the mood to be babied.

"He's been shot."


	3. Chapter 3

Time stopped. Natasha shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She breathed. Coulson watched her with his concerned, 'mother hen' face, as Clint called it. "Is he-" "He's alive," answered Coulson, reading her thoughts. "But severely injured. Bullet tore through his vest, and still managed to puncture a lung. He crashed twice on the way to the hospital, and he isn't stable yet. Romanoff, I'm not going to lie to you; it doesn't look good." Natasha willed herself to stare into Coulson's eyes. One glance told her all she needed to know; Coulson's eyes brimmed with tears, and Natasha had never seen him cry. _Ever._

"Where are you and how'd he get shot?" she asked, trying to keep herself calm, when on the inside she was slowly falling apart. "S.H.I.E.L.D. base, an hour from your location. South of Manhattan. I'll explain when you get her. Natasha, I don't want you to drop everything and come. Take your time, Barton's not going anywhere." She glared at him, wondering how he could say that to her. Her partner sat, dying in a hospital bed and he wanted her to wait? Coulson read her thoughts again. "He's in a comma. He's been knocked out since they got him here. Don't worry; I don't think he would leave without giving one last sarcastic remark to me or you." Natasha released a shaky laugh, but she was still planing to drop everything and leave.

Unfortunately, she didn't have a choice but to wait. Just as she was going to reply to Coulson, the power to the tower shut off. She cursed in every language she knew, desperately trying to hold back the tears that wanted to flow out of her eyes. She forced herself to calm down, which seemed nearly impossible. Coulson had sounded like he surely wasn't going to last much longer, and he wanted her to _wait? _And why in hell was the power off? She made to leave the bathroom, but she found the door jammed. Growling, she barged her shoulder against it, and rammed it. It didn't budge, but her shoulder throbbed. She hissed at the door, and kicked it. Nothing. She slammed, hit, punched, and kicked the door until she was nothing but a panting heap at the foot of the door (which was saying something because she is the freaking _Black Widow). _She checked her phone. No signal, and when she tried to pull an app up to message S.H.I.E.L.D. using data, her phone froze, fuzzed up, then went black. She threw that at the door too, but Tony had made the phones indestructible, so it didn't break. Looking up, her eyes fell upon the screen, still blank, lacking in power. She punched it, shattering the computer/mirror, immediately causing her hand to burst into blood. She cursed again, allowing her tears to escape.

She was here, stuck for god knows what reason! While her partner, her best friend, lay _dying _in some hospital bed, without her. She couldn't stand it; she lost it. She broke, shattering into a million pieces. She had always known news like this would come, but she always pictured herself _being there. _Not here, trapped in a freaking bathroom. Something clicked in her mind. _How was she stuck in a bathroom?_

She stood, glaring around for some sign as to why she was still contained here. A tiny light blinked from behind the computer screen she had just smashed, and she moved forward to investigate. It was a small projection device, powered by the emergency back up generator that Tony had put in, just in case something had gone wrong with the sustainable power source he had the tower hooked up to. Natasha clicked a button on the side, and the device turned on, projecting a light onto the opposite wall. After a few moments, Tony, Bruce, Steve, and Thor appeared on the wall, their faces smashed as they tried to all view the screen.

"LADY ROMANOFF!" Thor boomed, causing the fellow Avengers around him to jump out of view. They returned to view, massaging their ears. "Hey hot stuff! Glad to see you figured out the emergency projection system I installed in case something like this happened." Natasha gave possibly the darkest gaze she could muster at Tony's face. He shivered, making a mental note to stay away from her for the next forty eight hours.

Bruce was watching Natasha, and saw her tear-streaked face, and very bloody hand. "Natasha, are you alright?" She knew she must look bad. "Yeah, fine. Stark, what the hell happened? And why is my door jammed? What is this stupid projection thing, and can I use it to call Coulson?" she said quickly. She was losing time. Thinking he was safe for know, Tony responded. "Well, it seems that Jarvis decided to shut off the tower because someone was trying to hack in. This has happened before, when you and lovebird were on a mission. Jarvis went into automatic lockdown, which means that all doors are cut off, along with all technology in the building. No one can get in or out. The projection monitor was installed in case this happened. I meant to tell you guys, but it slipped my mind. You're supposed to break the computer screen to reach it, which it seems that you've obviously done. It runs on the generator that keeps Jarvis running, and it is the only means of communication within the tower. I'm sorry Romanoff, but you can't reach Coulson. You look terrible. What happened?" Natasha wasn't listening to Tony's last comment. "When will it be lifted?" "Twelve hours." "So what, I'm supposed to be stuck in a bathroom for a day? How'd you all get to the lab?" she asked. Bruce looked confused. "You didn't hear the announcement?" Tony turned to him. "Nahh, I installed the speakers in her and Hawk's room, but they got paranoid and blew them up. Remember? Clint used his explosive arrows and blew a hole in both of their walls." Bruce smirked in remembrance while Steve looked slightly terrified.

"Listen, guys, I need to get out of the tower. I-" Her voice cracked. She coughed, then pulled on her 'Black Widow' face. "Barton's been shot." She ignored the sharp intakes of her teammates. "I need to get out of here, and get to the hospital. Immediately. I'm sorry, but I can't wait twelve hours. Can't you override The system or something?" Tony, for a first, actually looked concerned. "Is he going to be alright?" Natasha looked at him carefully, then at the rest of the Avengers. She easily pulled off the lie. "He's fine. Just got shot. He'll probably be up and whining to Coulson before I even get there. I just want to be there too. Now figure out how to get me out of here, or you will have either a pissed off assassin, or a broken door." Tony winced; the doors were made of metal, extremely hard to break, and extremely expensive.

"Ok, Romanoff, you listening? It's going to take Bruce and I twenty minutes to get your floor unlocked. It'll be unlocked for only ten minutes, and then everything will be shut off again. That's about all we can do; the stair doors are locked, and the elevator is stuck on the basement floor. You have any idea how you're going to get out?" Natasha laughed at Tony's quizzical face. "Stark, I've escaped through worse. When does my twenty minutes start?" "It starts... now. Romanoff, be safe. Tell Hawk we said hi." Natasha stared into her fellow teammates' eyes, trying to show no sign of emotion. "Thanks, guys. I'll tell him. Have fun driving each other crazy in the lab," was all she said before signing off. Steve turned to the rest of the team. "Anyone else feel like she isn't telling us something?"


	4. Chapter 4

Natasha rinsed her long, dark red curls through the cool water. Her brain was grasping at straws, trying to implant a form of escape into her brain. She had taken the twenty minutes to get in the shower, cleaning up all of the sweat and blood she had accumulated today. She was out in five, dripping wet, but ready to go. She wrapped a towel around her chest, not wanting to change back into her smelly gym clothes. After her short term of brainstorming, she formalized her plan.

As the hand signaled her twenty minutes up on her watch, the door slid open. Thanking Tony silently in her mind, Natasha rushed out, practically sprinting to her dresser, where she pulled on jeans and a purple t-shirt, careful not to harm the silver arrow still around her neck. She went with the zip up boots; the laces would have taken too long. She grabbed a jacket, and slipped a gun into the back of her pants and a knife into her pocket. She grabbed a rope she kept near the window for emergencies, then ran to the elevator. She pried open the doors, tied one end of the rope to part of the railing, then tossed it into the abyss of the empty elevator shaft. Natasha easily climbed into the dark shaft, and just as she was fully inside, the doors shut, leaving her in complete darkness.

She was holding onto the edge, her fingers sweaty, her feet dangling beneath her. She shimmied over to the rope, the looped it snugly around a cable attached to the elevator currently sitting at the bottom floor. She had had just enough time to slip on her utility belt, and rather than injure her hands any farther, she clipped it to the rope to take off some of the wait, then began to slid down. She counted to floors, and when she got 24 floors down, she swung over to the doors, and using the strength she had left, she jimmied the doors open, getting just enough room to slip through.

Her feet hit the lobby of the tower, and she took off running. Her footsteps echoed loudly in the empty room; Tony hadn't really decorated it, due to the fact that they never used that entrance. She slipped off her jacket, wrapped it around her hand, then punched out the large glass window, and escaped into the afternoon sun.

Her head turned left and right, looking for a mode of transportation. The street in front of the tower was devoid of motionless cars, so she set her sights closer. Tony had built a garage on the first underground floor of the tower, and the garage door opened up onto the streets of New York. He kept a portion of his collection of vintage cars there, along with Steve's motorcycle and Clint's standard S.H.I.E.L.D. car.

Natasha sprinted to the garage door, facing a wall of solid metal. She scoffed at it, then pulled out a few charges from her utility belt. She attached them to the weak points of the door, pressed a button on her belt, then stood back, waiting for the explosion sure to come.

* * *

Back in the lab, Tony's computer started beeping. The trapped Avengers huddled around the screen, wondering what was going on. Tony pressed a few keys, then cursed aloud, a big smile creeping across his face.

"What happened?" Steve asked, not understanding what the flashing red light on the map meant. Bruce, who realized what had happened, began cracking up. "What is it, my friends? What do you find so amusing?" Thor boomed. Bruce kept laughing, but Tony gave one more laugh, then said "Romanoff blew out the garage door."

A shadow passed over Steve's face. "So she's either that lazy.." "Or she's that desperate. There is definitely something she isn't telling us now," said Tony, cutting in to and finishing Steve's sentence.

* * *

Natasha moved to the key rack, and pulled off the set of purple keys. Tony had painted them as a prank, once he found out that Clint's suit when he was in the carnival was purple. Clint retaliated, by having J.A.R.V.I.S. paint one Tony's Iron Man suits purple. After that, Avengers tower was in practical war mode for the next few weeks.

Natasha moved to Clint's black car, staring intently at the S.H.I.E.L.D. emblem on the side. A sudden image passed her mind, of that same symbol on Clint's shoulder, stained red, the wearer no longer moving. She shook her head; she couldn't think like that.

She unlocked the door and got in. She put the key into the ignition and started the engine. Michael Buble blasted into her ears, and though she winced at how loud it was turned up, she smiled. Michael Buble was Clint's favorite singer. After a long, grueling mission, he would retreat into the air vents and lay there for a few hours, listening to his music.

The inside of the car smelled like Clint, and Natasha inhaled deeply. For the first time in a few hours, she felt calm, glad that she was taking action. She pressed down the gas and drove up the ramp, speeding up out of the garage, and onto the streets.


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm sorry miss. You can't get in to see him at this time."

"Like hell I can't. Get Coulson. He'll let me in."

People shuffled by, talking to other desk workers, reading the latest memo, discussing the latest threat. Natasha hated dealing with the stupid S.H.I.E.L.D. protocol agents who guarded the infirmary. The protocol agents were there to verify that any agent who wandered in was in fact an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., not an assassin coming to finish their job.

Unfortunately, in her rush to see Clint, Natasha had forgotten her badge in her room, leaving her with no way to identify herself to the main desk.

"Please. Just call Agent Phil Coulson. S.H.I.E.L.D. badge number 28674. Clearance level 8."

The woman gave Natasha a deep look of disgust, but entered the number into the data base anyways.

"Says here he's on duty."

"Yes, that's because he was in the middle of a mission with Clint when Clint got shot. Coulson dropped everything and brought him here. Please. Just call him."

"I can't call him if he's on duty."

Natasha was pissed. She wasn't having any of it. She hadn't broken out of the tower just to be turned away by some desk lady who was only clearance level 2 and seemed bent on not letting Natasha in. Natasha leaned forward and grabbed the woman's food stained shirt.

"Listen here," she growled. "Let me in, or I will kill you right here, right now. I don't give a damn what happens to you. You get that? I could splatter your blood across these walls and not care. People will try to stop me, but they won't be able to. Woman, I don't _care_ who you are, but I _do _care about my partner. You understand that? He's been shot. Is probably going to die. If you don't let me in, and he dies, you're going to be the second person I come for, right after the son of a bitch who shot him in the first place. So you let me in right now, and I promise you I won't lay a finger on you unless we have this issue again, understand? And don't you _dare _hit that panic button, or I will break your wrist before you can bat an eye."

The woman's hand had been creeping towards a jar of pencils with a little red button on it. If pressed, that button would turn on a red light in the video surveillance room, signaling that she was in danger.

Now the woman began shaking in fear, torn between getting fired if she let this woman in, or getting killed. She obviously chose getting fired. The woman hit a switch, opening a set of air tight glass doors with a hiss, allowing Natasha entry.

"Thank you," Natasha whispered exasperatedly, throwing the woman back into her chair roughly, her eyes no longer focused on the woman's face, but on the entrance into the infirmary.

As she turned her back, the woman's hand crept back to the jar. The woman looked away for a millisecond, and when she glanced back at Natasha, all she saw was the barrel of a gun.

"Don't even think about it."

Satisfied the woman got the message, Natasha glanced around the room, then walked into medical.

* * *

Everything was white, like snow when it first falls. She wandered the maze, trying to find anything that would lead her to Clint. Doctors and Nurses walked about the hallways, giving Natasha strange looks. She knew they were checking her out; people in medical were always looking for fresh sources to experiment on. Eventually Natasha gave in to her deep dislike of the medical staff, and stopped a blonde nurse pushing a crash cart.

"Um, ma'am?"

The nurse looked up, her eyes steely gray, her face etched with some emotion; sadness?

"I'm looking for an Agent Clint Barton. Probably being cared for by a mother-like agent named Phil Coulson? Could you point me in the right direction?"

Tears filled the nurse's eyes as she scanned Natasha. Why?

"I'm so sorry. I really am. We tried everything. He just didn't make it. I'm sorry. Two doors down on your right. I'm so sorry."

Oh. That's why.

* * *

Natasha took a deep breath before she entered the room. She could hear Coulson's echoing sobs from within. Tears began to fill her eyes, and her chest ached so much she thought it was going to explode. She didn't know what made her enter the room, but she put one foot in front of the other, and walked into her nightmare.

Coulson sat on the left side of the bed in a cold, hard, metal chair, his head buried in his hands, which were propped up by his elbows on the side of the bed. He was shaking, his breath coming in short, harsh gasps in between outbursts of cries.

Clint lay in the bed, shirtless, with many tubes and needles stuck into him in all sorts of places. The machine that usually beeped in time with the patient's heartbeat was emitting a shrill, long, endless beep, confirming Natasha's worst fears.

She fell to the floor, her knees hitting first, the tears flowing freely, unchecked.

Coulson looked up, breaking from his sobbing to just thick tears.

"Oh Natasha, oh no. I'm so sorry. Natasha."

Coulson stood from his chair and slid down to the floor with Natasha, wrapping his arms around her. It was Natasha's turn to loose it, and her breaths became short and shallow as the pain wracked her body.

"Why didn't I get here sooner?"

"Natasha, it's not your fault. I didn't expect you to get here this soon. I expected to be cool and collected before you got here, but no, you just have to disregard everything I say."

Natasha let out a shaky laugh, but sounded more like she was choking.

"Is that why you wanted me to take my time? Because you knew I wasn't going to make it?"

"Selfish, right?"

"No sir. Not at all. Oh Clint. Clint, why?" Natasha took a few deep breaths, trying to steady herself. "Can I touch him?"

She knew it was a stupid question, but she didn't know what to do.

Coulson gave her a watery smile, and nodded, helping her to her feet and to the edge of the bed. She collapsed into the chair, then carefully ran her hand through Clint's blondish brown hair. Now that she was up close, she could see the sterling white bandage, just like the room, wrapped around his chest, stained with a still growing pool of red.

Silent tears rolled down Natasha's ruddy face, and Coulson's hand rested on her shoulder. She took her warm hands into Clint's left, and placed them against her forehead.

"I'm sorry Clint. I'm so sorry. Clint. I love you."

The machine still flat-lined, ringing throughout the room. Natasha leaned in, and kissed Clint lightly on his lips.

A sudden change took place. Though it was a simple change, it meant the difference between life and death.

Natasha heard a split second of silence, followed by a beep, then another, then another.

_Clint was breathing._


	6. Chapter 6

**Just letting everyone know, this chapter has a little bit to deal with religion, and I'm sorry if it offends anyone!**

* * *

Clint didn't know where he was. Everything was hazy and dark, and the silence was deafening. He pulled himself up from the ground, struggling to breathe. He didn't understand why his chest hurt so much, and when he tried to look closer, he found himself dressed in a black tux, with a blood red tie. His shoes were a shiny black, glistening on the wooden floor.

Suddenly, he heard the sounds of light flickering on above him. A few seconds later, the large room he was standing in was lit up in a dim, golden light.

He was standing in a ballroom, larger than any room he had seen before. It seemed to go on forever, stretching into infinity. The ceiling was glass, showing the white stars twinkling in the inky black sky.

Feeling the beginnings of panic, Clint stumbled to his feet. He didn't know where he was, or what had happened, and that wasn't good. Deciding it would be better if he was out of sight, or somewhere high, he began looking for a rope or curtain that he could climb or hide behind. There was nothing, only the room stretching forever on end.

Music began playing somewhere in the distance, _Lost_ by Micheal Buble. Clint sprinted towards the noise, his feet echoing through the hall as he ran.

Clint screeched to a halt as he saw a figure come into view.

She was tall and slender, with muscular arms visible due to the sleeveless and low cut dress she was wearing. It was a simple, black, mermaid dress with a sweet heart neckline that showed off the silver arrow necklace she had clasped around her neck.

Thick, red, curls twirled around her shoulders, reaching her lower back. Her emerald green eyes were sharp, outlined with a thick, black ink. Her lips were a light pink, matching her cheeks as her usual pale face reddened when she set her careful eyes upon him.

"Tasha?"

"Clint!"

She rushed to him, wrapping her strong arms around him. He hugged her back, inhaling her sweet scent, a calmness spreading through him.

"Nat, what's going on? Where are we?"

Natasha looked around, studying the area.

"I, I'm not sure. I don't know what's going on. Do you remember anything that's happened? Because I keep drawing up a blank."

"No, I don't remember anything. Good music though."

Natasha let out a laugh, knowing Clint loved Micheal Buble's voice.

"Well, there doesn't seem to be a threat, so, you want to dance?"

Again, Natasha laughed, her nose wrinkling with happiness. Clint's stomach swooped, and he was confused. He'd never felt that before.

"I would be honored."

As _Lost_finished, the song switched to _Put Your Head On My Shoulder__. _Clint slipped his hand onto Natasha's lower waist, and her hand slid to Clint's back. Natasha interlocked her fingers with Clint's, and they began to sway in time with the music.

As they danced, Natasha leaned into Clint's chest, and his stomach wiggled again. _What was going on?_

"Clint, I... I love you."

Clint stopped dancing, and looked into Natasha's sea green eyes. He was dumbfounded. He'd loved her for a while, but he never thought she felt the same.

"I'm sorry Clint. I'm so sorry. Clint. It's just... I love you."

Clint was confused. Why was she sorry?

_'Because you didn't respond to her you idiot.'_

Oh. That's why.

"Natasha, I love you too."

Her eyes lit up, happiness etched all over her face.

The sound of a gunshot echoed through the air, but it was distant, sounding like it did in his dreams.

Clint suddenly fell down in pain. He gasped, pulling at his chest.

Blood was staining his white undershirt, matching his tie. He looked around for Natasha, and found her on the floor crying. He tried to get to her, but he couldn't move.

"Oh Clint. Clint, why?"

"NATASHA!" he screamed, but she acted as though she didn't hear him. She was fading, the edges of her image blurring into the black background. _What was going on? _

He struggled against the invisible force that was holding him still, desperately wanting to get to her, to hold her, to tell her it was going to be alright.

"I'm sorry Clint. I'm so sorry. Clint. I love you."

_Hold On _rang in the background, and Clint's heart broke. He loved her, and she loved him, but he would die before they could be together.

_"Tasha, please. I love you." _He felt her come closer to him, and saw her blurred face above him.

"I'm sorry Clint. I'm so sorry. Clint. I love you."

She leaned down, and kissed him. When she came back up, blood was smeared on her arms and face.

Everything faded to black, leaving Clint wondering if this was what death was like. A single, drawn out siren noise rang in the distance, drowning out Micheal Buble's wonderful music.

.

.

.

The silence of death was comforting. It was peaceful, and calm. Clint had never felt so tranquil. He was floating, where, he didn't know, but he was free. Free of pain and misery. But free of Natasha.

His heart ached for her, but he knew she would be okay. She would move on from him, he hoped. She couldn't just throw away her life because of him. He didn't want that for her. He just wanted her to be happy.

_"She would be happy with you."_

Cursing his conscience, he mentally slapped himself.

_"Shut up, okay? Tasha will be fine without me."_

_"Will she?"_

_"Yes, she will. Nat is strong. Stronger than I could ever hope to be."_

_"That's what you think."_

_"Alright, shut the hell up you stupid conscience. I would like to live my death in peace."_

_"Clint, what if I'm not your conscience? What if you're not dead?"_

_"Brain, that's not funny. I'm dead. You and I both don't believe in God, so don't start now just because you're afraid of where we're going. Besides, even if there was a God, he wouldn't take me in because of all the wrong I've done. Killing people doesn't exactly get you in the good books."_

_"You don't get judged based on what you've done. It's what's on the inside, Clint. And right now, Natasha is breaking. inside. She needs you Clint. You can't leave her."_

_"I don't really have a choice, brain."_

_"There's always a choice."_

Clint heard a sudden rushing noise, like waves, or a waterfall.

_"What's going on?"_

_"Protect Natasha with your life, Clint, and I might just be inclined to _'Put you in the good books' _as you said earlier. You two have something special, and who am I to tear that apart? Be good to her Clint."_

_"Wait, who are you?"_

The rushing noise fell away, replaced by the steady beeping noise of a heart monitor.

.

.

.

Clint cracked open his eyes, blinded by the whiteness of the room. A red blur came into view, and he smiled.

"Tasha?"

He heard a shaky intake of breath, and then heard Natasha begin to cry.

"Clint!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Just letting everyone know, this chapter talks about religion, and I apologize if anyone is offended. **

* * *

"You guys act like I died or something."

Natasha slugged Clint hard in the shoulder. He winced, but she didn't care.

"You're an idiot you know that hawk? You were dead. Legally gone for more than four minutes."

"Yeah, but I'm not dead now am I? So cheer up okay? I feel like we're at a funeral."

"Well, it was almost your funeral, Barton."

"That's not funny Phil."

Natasha and Coulson sat around Clint's new bed in the recovery unit, exhausted from the emotional roller coaster that had been today. After Natasha caught his pulse, confirming that the machine wasn't just acting up, Coulson rushed to get a nurse while Natasha kept Clint breathing. When Coulson came back, a nurse following in his wake, he found Natasha nearly in tears, with Clint's eyes beginning to flicker open.

Unbelievable; that's what people were calling Clint's recovery. A true miracle. They couldn't believe that Clint was alive, that he was talking and cracking jokes, even taking a few punches from a very emotional Natasha. The archer had to be taken in for one last surgery to clear up the wound, and after that he had to be under observation for twenty four hours, but then he was free to go.

Clint had been very shocked to find Natasha with tears streaming down her face when he woke up. He knew she would be upset that he got shot, but not enough to cry. Natasha never cried, unless you count the times where something from her past came back and dragged her under, but even then she wasn't as big of a mess as she was when he woke up.

"I'm hungry, can I have food yet?"

"Doctor said to wait for another hour."

"Cool, that is just enough time for you to order take out from our Chinese place and go get it, Nat."

"You're funny Clint. You're not eating anything until we can see if you can hold down jello and water."

"Oh come _on _Phil, you know I could eat anything and keep it down."

"Unfortunately, Barton, in this case, I'm going to have to side with the doctors."

"You too Nat? Gosh guys, remind me not to die next time. You two teaming up doesn't seem to be good for me. I liked it much better when it was Tasha and me against Mr. Suit."

"Mr. Suit?"

"Tony's nickname. He likes it more that Agent."

Coulson nodded, while Natasha giggled. Clint's eyes fell hungrily on her, savoring each moment he had with her. When Coulson or Natasha looked up though, he acted normal, as if it was just another day.

"Speaking of the guys, where are they?"

Coulson and Natasha groaned.

"They're stuck in the tower. Apparently someone tried to hack into JARVIS's system, so everything was shut down."

"How'd you get out?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

Natasha flashed Clint a seductive look, that made his insides burn with passion.

"You know, I think I would."

A smile flickered on Natasha's face, but in her mind, she was wondering why Clint had such an intense gaze fixed on her.

"Another time, perhaps. Right now I'm going to try and call Steve. They might be out of lockdown by now."

Natasha stood up, pulled out her S.H.I.E.L.D. phone, and walked out into the hallway, dialing Steve's number.

Clint turned to Coulson.

"Lockdown?"

"Don't ask."

A few silent seconds passed.

"Coulson, before Tasha comes back in, I need to ask you something. Do you believe in God?"

Coulson looked seriously at his agent, wondering what this was all about.

"Well... I would have to say yes."

"Why?"

Coulson pondered this for a few tense minutes.

"I know this might sound strange, but even though we went through bad things, we're still alive, aren't we? Even though we've seen the worst, life still has it's perks, doesn't it? If there wasn't a God, why would there be good? Why would I have to deal with you crazy Avengers? Why would you have Natasha? If someone watching over us didn't make these things happen, then how did they? Clint, we don't believe in God, especially S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, because it's so hard to believe that all of these bad things happen to us if there is a God supposedly taking care of us, but we don't look at the good, and I think that's what counts."

Natasha walked back in, looking slightly annoyed. Clint put a mask on his face while his brain tried to analyze what Coulson had just said.

"What's wrong Natasha?"

She looked up.

"Oh nothing. Steve still isn't sure how to work a phone, so Tony answered, and he was being Tony, and I wanted to kill him, but I told him what happened (I hadn't told them everything earlier) and then I realized he had put me on speakerphone, so long story short, everyone is coming her to visit you."

Coulson sighed, shook his head, and muttered under his breath, while Clint laughed, and said "This'll be fun."

* * *

The woman at the front desk was having a rough day. She had spilled her lunch on her shirt, and got hassled by some stupid assassin. The assassins were the worst when it came to people being in medical, especially if it was someone they really cared about.

Hours after the pissed off assassin had come by, the woman found herself bored, playing solitaire on the computer.

Just as she won her third game in a row, a shadow passed over her. She looked up, and her jaw dropped.

Four people stood before her, all dripping wet from the rain outside that had moved in when night fell. One man had long, blondish brown hair, and was extremely tall and extremely muscular. Another was shorter, with bent glasses, brownish hair and eyes, and tan skin. He had a coiled feeling about him, like he was very wary of his surroundings. A third man had sandy brown hair with bright blue eyes, and was very muscular, except not as muscular as the man with the long blonde hair. The fourth man was leaning onto the counter, his eyes hidden by dark sunglasses, (even though it was night) and had brown hair perfectly styled. He cleared his throat, bringing the woman out of her stupor.

"Uh, yes. Hi. We're the family of a one, Clint Barton? Avenger? Hawkeye? Bird Brain? Likes to make nests in high places and climb in air vents?"

The man with the blue eyes and sandy hair stepped forward.

"Shut up Stark!" he whispered, though she caught every word. He turned to her, a pleasant smile on his face.

"Hi, we're here to see a Clint Barton? He's in weapons recovery right now. He just got out of surgery."

The woman looked them up and down, deciding she would get back at that stupid assassin.

"I'm sorry, do you have a S.H.I.E.L.D. identification card?"

The man with the sunglasses stepped forward.

"Listen, sweetheart, if you don't believe us, just call Agent Phil Coulson or Natasha Romanoff. They're with Bird Brain right now."

She glared at him, exited out of her solitaire game, and pulled open Google Chrome.

"It says here they're listed as Active. I can't call them if they're Active."

The two men who had spoken exchanged dark looks, while the man with the long hair looked confused, and then man with the bent glasses pulled out his phone.

After a few seconds, the man with the bent glasses stepped forward.

"It says here they're in recovery with an injured. It's listed as their S.H.I.E.L.D. status."

The other three men looked at the phone, then up at the woman.

She quickly pulled open the actually S.H.I.E.L.D. status reports.

"So it does," she said sourly.

Not in the mood to call the evil assassin, she just opened up the doors, letting the men through.

The man with the sunglasses was the last to pass through, but as he did, he raised his middle finger into the air. She glared at him, but couldn't do anything about it. She _hated _her job sometimes.


	8. Chapter 8

Someone knocked loudly on the door, and Natasha pulled her eyes away from Clint. She smiled as she saw Tony, Bruce, Steve and Thor, all fighting each other, trying to get a look through the window. She shook her head, then got up to let them all inside. Immediately they all went to Clint's side, pushing Coulson out of the way and taking over Natasha's chair. Clint looked pretty shocked that they were all so worried about him, but played it cool.

"No one brought Chinese food? Seriously?"

Natasha smirked as she followed Coulson out of the room, the small hospital room a little too crowded for the two of them. Coulson, who had been readling a text, put his phone in his pocket and looked at Natasha seriously, as though he was trying to determine something. She caught him watching her.

"Uh, Sir? Is there a problem?"

Coulson shook his head.

"No."

After a few minutes of stiff silence, he spoke again.

"Yes. Natasha, where did you get that necklace?"

Natasha instinctively reached up and fingered the arrow.

"Clint left it on my bedside table. I found it when I woke up this morning."

Coulson nodded, but Natasha could plainly see something was still bothering him.

"Sir, is there something else you'd like to say?"

He bit his lip, glanced around, then pulled his phone back out.

"The people who shot Clint? They, er, knew your location. As well as everyone elses. They were... watching. I think that's why JARVIS shut down the tower, was because he realized it had been hacked. We brought in the extraction team, and picked up Clint, as well as the leader. He's been taken to interrogation, but Hill just texted me. She said he wasn't talking, but he had an encrypted card on him that they're sending to the techies. Honestly, we think this leader's organization is a part of something bigger. And due to the fact that they were watching all of you..."

Coulson raised his phone to Natasha's arrow, and a bright blue light swept over it. Coulson lowered his phone, and studied the screen. Natasha waited with baited breath, trying to digest what Coulson had just told her.

The phone beeped, and Coulson face lit up.

"The necklace is clear, but is there anything else that you have received lately? Anything that might have a GPS tracker on it?"

Natasha thought long and hard, but drew up a blank. She shook her head. Coulson sighed.

"Come on, we need to tell Stark. He might have some idea as to what is going on."

Natasha and Coulson walked back into the room to loud laughter and yelling. Steve looked slightly embarrassed, Bruce was holding Tony up, who was in tears of laughter, Thor was pounding his fist on the table, and Clint was guffawing, barely able to breathe.

Natasha, not in the mood now that she found out they were all possibly in danger, whipped out a knife and threw it at Tony, but it curved, glanced by his ear, and stuck into the wall behind him. That shut them all up.

"Avengers, we've got a problem. We've been under surveillance, without us even knowing. Coulson thinks that JARVIS figured it out, and shut down the tower. Either way, we're all in danger. We don't know who is behind this, or what their intentions are, but we believe that the people who shot Clint are part of something bigger. Stark, do you have any idea as to how they hacked the tower?"

Tony looked at her seriously, his recent joyous face melting away.

"Oh my god. _Pepper."_

He stood up, and made to run to the door, but Coulson grabbed his shoulder, and Steve grabbed him from behind.

"Tony, tell us what's going on. What did you just realize?"

Tony struggled against the men, not taking in Steve's words, trying to get free.

"Let go! I have to get to Pepper! She's not safe! Let go!"

"Stark!"

Bruce leaned up and slapped him. Tony blinked, startled his friend had just done that.

"Sorry, but you said if you ever freaked out, to slap some sense into you."

"No that kind of freaking out Bruce. Like, panic attack freaking out."

"That's what I saw."

"Well I wasn't having a panic attack. You're a doctor. Aren't you supposed to know these things?"

"Not officially, but still. You're not spazzing out now, are you?"

"_Boys, _why don't we skip the kiddy fight and to the point why Tony seems so intent on leaving now?"

Tony glanced over at Natasha who had pulled her knife out of the wall and was fingering it dangerously.

"Clint, your girlfriend scares me."

Clint rolled his eyes, while on the inside, his chest jumped. Natasha gripped the knife, studying Tony as if to see where she should throw it that would be the most painful.

"Okay, long story short, Pepper had to take our clothes to the dry cleaners-"

"What? Why?"

"Because, Mr. Suit, we had our weekly Hunger Games session with nerf guns last week and we blew up the washer and dryer. So as I was saying, she took our clothes to the dry cleaners, and there was this guy there-"

"How do you blow up the washer and dryer with nerf guns?"

"We night have graduated to actual weapons, but that's beside the point-"

"You _what?"_

"So Pepper ran into this guy that she had know a while back, from when she was still my 'servant' but he was like, scary now, like complete thug-like, and Pepper accidentally dropped the bags, and he helped her pick them up, but she thought that she saw him put something in the bags, but she never found anything. She told me about him, but I didn't take her seriously. So if you excuse me, I'm going to go make sure my girlfriend is safe now."

He made to leave again, but Steve grabbed him again.

"We'll get to her Tony. First, do you know who the guy worked with?"

Tony glared at him, but rolled his eyes up, deep in thought.

"She said it was some guy from some charity group we had lined up, uh, Icer's Mechanical Engineering school? Yeah, I think that's it."

Coulson typed the name into his phone and sent it to the base.

"Alright, Tony where's Pepper now?"

"She's at work, probably her office."

"Okay, you Steve and Bruce go get her, and when you've confirmed that she's safe, call Natasha. Thor, you and I are going to upstairs to see a friend of ours, and Natasha, get Clint prepped and ready to move. Thor and I will be back in thirty minutes to drive to a safe house. We need to get you all off of the radar until we find out what's going on. Call me if anything goes wrong, okay? In the mean time, don't get killed, alright?"

Everyone looked around at each other, then nodded. Things were about to get interesting.

* * *

**I'm really sorry I haven't been updating, school is a killer! But do not worry; I have one more week of school, and then I have spring break! **


	9. Chapter 9

"Sir, may I ask, where are we traveling to?" asked Thor, as he followed Coulson up a set of steep stairs.

They had left the hospital portion of the base to an upper level. Coulson's face was determined, glancing occasionally at his phone while they climbed. Coulson seemed to ignore Thor's question, but after a few more flights, he stopped suddenly, then turned to the befuddled god.

"We're going to see Maria Hill, and the man who shot Clint. Do you remember Maria? The scary looking agent that was sometimes more vicious than Director Fury?"

Thor nodded enthusiastically, his eyes glazing over with the memories of New York. The memories, for him, had been somewhat cheerful times, for he had secured a new family on Midgard. Coulson watched him with a bemused look, before turning and walking back up the stairs.

"We're going to offer our assistance in the interrogation. If she says yes, then we'll help. If she says no, then we'll help anyways."

"Son of Coul, why do we want to anger the Hill of Maria? You say that she is an angry one, so why would we insist if she does not accept? That is like poking a sleeping bilgesnipe."

Coulson laughed. "We're going to poke the Hill because we need information on what's going on, and who the man is working for."

"This man, he is the one who shot the man of Hawk's Eyes?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Oh, nothing, but I wish to meet his face with Mjolnir! To what level are we going?"

"Level 12."

"Then to level 12 we go!"

Thor suddenly stretched his long legs and jumped up three steps at a time, leaving Coulson struggling, but laughing, in his wake.

* * *

"No. I am not letting you and Goldilocks over there mess up my interrogation! We're about to get him to crack, and you two stepping in would ruin it all! Now step away before I call Fury. Coulson, _move._"

"I'm sorry Hill, but I can't do that. I need to know who he works for, and you know as well as I do that he is nowhere near breaking. He's not even sweating. I know that Thor isn't ideal, but I couldn't bring Romanoff because she is too involved. She probably would have pulled out a knife and sliced this guy's throat before we could stop her. Nonetheless, it is _extremely _important that we find out who is behind this, due to... recent, events."

Maria Hill raised an eyebrow. Coulson sighed, and looked around, making sure the other agents were occupied with Thor (who was picking up random objects and examining them roughly before throwing them back down) before leaning in to whisper in Maria's ear.

"The tower lock down? That was who this guy was working for. I'm sure of it. It's been planned too perfectly. With us occupied with an injured and possibly dead Clint, and the rest of the Avengers locked in the tower, then it left them a perfect opportunity to get to Pepper, or do whatever other evil plans they had. So do you see why this is so important?"

Maria leaned away, then took a good look at Coulson.

"Alright," she said. "I understand why this is an issue to the Avengers, but Phil, you didn't bring Romanoff because you thought that she would blow it. How do I know that you won't do the same thing?"

Coulson just smiled, and shook his head.

"Maria, I'm not like our fiery little red head. I can control it. Besides, I already kicked him when we loaded him into the van."

Maria shook her head as she watched Coulson grab Thor by the shoulder and yank him into the interrogation room. The man inside sat up suddenly, rubbing his eyes, trying to take in the new arrivals.

"Who the hell are you?" he mumbled.

Coulson pulled on his 'serious' face, while Thor just glared.

"We're with S.H.I.E.L.D., and we're here to tell you that your interview is going a little slow. We're here to help speed it up."

The man snorted and rolled his eyes, settling back into the chair. Thor banged his fist on the table, causing the man to jump.

"What the hell was that for?"

Coulson sent a glance towards Thor, but the god wasn't paying attention.

"Do not disrespect the Son of Coul! He is my friend, and I value my friends most highly!"

The man turned to Coulson looking for some explanation as to what the heck was going on. Coulson just shrugged.

"It's alright Thor. We just want to ask a few questions. If you think he's lying, then you can result to the threats, alright?"

Thor growled, but obliged.

"Now, we don't even know your name. You mind telling us that?"

The man rolled his eyes onto Coulson and smiled a wicked smile.

"You are lot cooler than that other chick that came in here. She just got straight to the big stuff. The name's Blake. Blake Snyder."

"Well, Mr. Snyder, I'm Phil Coulson, and you shot my agent this morning."

Blake's eyes grew huge, and the smile disappeared from his face.

"This here is Thor. I'm guessing you've heard of him? He wanted in on the interrogation because he wanted to know who shot his fellow Avenger. It's by my orders that he hasn't pounded your face with his hammer."

Thor looked slightly confused, but wiped it quickly off of his face, following Coulson's blank face method. The man just glanced at Thor before looking back at Coulson, fear showing in his eyes.

"Look," he sputtered. "I didn't want to shoot your agent. I was under orders."

"From who?"

"If I tell you, he'll kill me!"

"S.H.I.E.L.D. will put you under protection, after you've been charged for your involvement in organ harvesting that is."

"You don't get it, do you? He'll, _They'll_ know! I'll be dead before I leave this room!"

"We can make sure that doesn't happen. But please, time is of the essence, so, could you, you know, spit it out? Or else I would kind of need to use Mr. Persuasion over here."

Thor flexed his muscles menacingly, taking the hint. Blake gulped, but shook his head, set his jaw, and leaned back. Coulson too leaned back, turning his head to Thor, but Maria Hill rapped on the glass. All three of the men looked up, and Coulson stood up and walked out. Thor took his chance and leaned over to the man, and forced Blake's head down on the table. No one saw, or cared.

"What is it Maria?"

Coulson looked into Maria's eyes, and was shocked to find her looking slightly worried.

"What's wrong?"

She shook her head, then exhaled slowly and dramatically.

"It's AIM. That's what was on the hard drive. He's being influenced by AIM. Hammer's been replaced by some other idiot, we're still looking at the name, but that's who has been targeting the Avengers. It's AIM."


End file.
